


bathymetry

by orphan_account



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Guilt, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Trauma, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26787946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Isn’t this what he wanted?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	bathymetry

**Author's Note:**

> hey! i’m really fascinated by how cody is basically sexually harassed through all of world tour and absolutely nobody does anything about it. this is just... a tiny snippet of an idea but i couldn’t get it out of my head. read with caution- there is NO description of sexual assault, but it’s heavily implied and it’s all about cody wrestling with his trauma. thank you for reading!

Cody always watched the land roll past his window, rested his palm on the cold glass and peered at the little towns below as they slipped into view. Harold had told him once before he left that most planes flew at thirty-eight thousand feet. He wondered if Chef knew that, or if he even cared.

Most times when he looked out over his fingers he felt a distance much further than he could measure in miles.

It wasn’t just the way that sprawling mountains sank to nondescript molehills and ancient cities looked like patchy green quilts stitched together by haphazard roads. It wasn’t Chris’ challenges- no, not even the songs. It wasn’t the looming threat of elimination, nor the constant jet lag that pounded behind his eyes, biting as a bad headache. Cody complained about all that to anyone who would listen, but none of it was weighing on his heart quite like the heavy hands that always found an excuse to wrap around his body and possess it. 

He could sit alone in bitter darkness and feel them all over. He was seven miles above sea level and Sierra was dragging him back down to Earth, forcing the air from his desperate lungs with her vice grip. Wasn’t there a joke about the old ball and chain? Cody wanted to laugh. Wished he was a better man, that the worst thing to be in the world was a henpecked husband with a nagging wife. He could find that turn of phrase funny in an ironic way. The thought of it wouldn’t force his blood pool in his spine and chill to air temperature. It was freezing inside the cabin, even without AC. 

Every creak he heard made him jump, though still air wasn’t better; Cody could hear his heart run like a rabbit and whimper with fright but he couldn’t sense his predator from fifty paces, couldn’t flee the scene at the first sign of danger.

It only happened in first class. Of course winning felt good, but god, the saccharine spoils of victory were always undercut by the time he had to spend at her mercy. As soon as his teammates fell asleep he was back under her thumb, all ten of her fingers-like-claws pulling at the threads that held him together and forcing him open. He didn’t know how he could sit ten feet away from his tentative friends and feel so abandoned- feel like toppled stone pillars left to the elements, helpless against the world’s greater powers. 

_Isn’t this what you wanted?_

His self-talk wailed in his ears like television reruns these days, the bitter question working its way through his brain until it sounded like a misquote, warped itself into something more like _this is what you want_ and made Cody feel silly- feel _bad_ \- for ever thinking otherwise. Wasn’t it flattering, her knowing every detail, every delicate line of his body? Wasn’t it sweet how she delighted in finding new freckles? Didn’t it feel nice when she touched him, drew shivers from his hips and covered his mouth up so the other Amazons wouldn’t hear him snivel and sigh? 

He trusted Gwen and Courtney. Heather was another story, but he didn’t expect it to sting so badly when they all but tethered him to Sierra in Paris- fuck, spending the whole day winning back the affection of his tormentor was the most acute punishment that he’d ever been dealt. Begging her to forgive him licked humiliation into his heart and forced it far deeper than her fingers could ever reach. Maybe they had never been subtle at night. Maybe Gwen liked the way the tables had turned, pretended to sleep so she could silently watch Cody get what was coming to him. He was ashamed at how often he stirred in that fantasy to sweeten up the sick truth. He supposed he couldn’t feel too badly for himself, not with karma sending him an obvious message. 

He couldn’t look his teammates in the eye after Paris. He felt vulnerable, though, and after London was a distant speck in the metaphorical rear-view mirror, he told Duncan. He told pigtail-pulling, pushy, only-teases-you-because-he-likes-you Duncan about his crushing secret. The memory of the conversation made his stomach turn with guilt, and he kept it tucked away, let it fester in the part of him that ached for deprecation when he felt his lowest. _“You’re the man, Cody, if you let it happen you probably liked it,”_ burned him up in just the right way. _“You got off, didn’t you? Sounds like you’re doing better than the rest of us ever thought you would,”_ that one fed right back into his deep-seated inferiority, helped him remember his place and how he should be so lucky to have anyone desperate enough to want him. He didn’t know why he bothered arguing when he knew he’d submit like always.

Nothing Duncan said made him more nauseous than his own nasally voice. _“No, no, you’re right, she’s really not_ so _bad,”_ he heard himself say, and Duncan just gave him an _“atta boy”_ and scurried off to reunite with Courtney, or Gwen, or whoever it was he’d effortlessly attracted, and Cody was left with himself and his violated will, broken down until he was the shape that everyone else wanted him to be. 

She found him in first class. He set his eyes on the ocean out the window, tried to let his mind wander while his heart sunk to the bottom of the churning North Sea. 

_Atta boy._


End file.
